


The Ophelia Files, Part 1

by LadyShadowWalker



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:35:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5337692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowWalker/pseuds/LadyShadowWalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Told from Ophelia's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Am Not Afraid

A rumbling, thunderous sound awoke Ophelia. The first thing she became aware of was that her head was killing her. The next was that she remembered falling. It had been day, but now it was night. She lifted her head up carefully, trying not to make it hurt worse.

The sky flashed with bright red lightning illuminating a figure crouched over her. An Outsider! He stood up threateningly and she started to move but the movement caused her head to spin. Nausea briefly warred with blackness before the blackness won.

* * *

She slowly returned to consciousness, groaning in pain. Her entire body ached and throbbed and her head thumped painfully with every heartbeat. She opened her eyes, spotting rock walls and ceiling and sat up carefully, wincing as her right leg protested at the movement.

There were trinkets all over the place, clutter and junk, a veritable find of odds and ends that would have Wash and Flint swooning in delight. She seemed to be all alone in this cave of spare parts. She moved to stand, crying out as her right leg refused to cooperate. She inspected her leg; there was a nasty laceration across her knee, going straight to the bone. She gagged, her head spinning once again.

A noise echoed just outside an entrance-way she hadn’t noticed before. There was light from a fire on the other side casting a yellow glow into the room. Someone was coming.

“Ah!” She yelped as she tried to stand, falling back down on her injured right knee. “Aaah!” The most severe injury she ever had before was when that water monster had attacked her. This was definitely worse.

The Outsider came in, carrying a red hot poker, storming straight at her, ready to kill her. She held up her hand defensively. “Please, please don’t hurt me!” She begged over and over again. The Outsider ignored her, snatching hold of her right leg and forcing it straight. “No! Please! No! Nooooo!” She screamed in agony as he lowered the heated poker to her knee. Her screams faded to a gurgle as the sudden pain knocked her back out again.

 

* * *

She awoke with a start, sitting up to find herself in the same room as before, staring at the same ceiling in the same near-darkness to the same pain. She was alive. He hadn’t killed her or strung her up for bait like they’d done to Flint…at least not yet.

“Hello?” She called out. “Is anybody here?” She looked around, listening for noises, uncertain what she would do if someone responded. All remained quiet except for the howling of the wind through the cracks and doorways.

She looked down at her knee, moving back the torn pant leg and finding her wound had been cauterized. “He fixed it?” she whispered in bewilderment.  She bent her knee a few times, feeling a slight tug and an excruciating throb but it wasn’t the agonizing, barfing pain she had felt before.

She eased herself to her feet, standing on her left leg as she added weight to her right, testing it. She limped forward. She could walk. Her eyes were drawn up to a hole in the ceiling where the moon shone brightly overhead. The moon always made her want to cry for her mother. The first moonrise she had ever seen had also been her mother’s last.

She turned away, blinking back the tears and saw a collection of branches? Sticks? _Items_ that she could use as a weapon hanging on the wall. She picked a white one out and hefted it in front of her as she crept through a darkened doorway and made her way into the next room, the walls dripping with groundwater. There was an opening overhead with a grate covering it. She pushed up at the grate and it barely moved. She tried pulling at it, hanging on and using her full body-weight before her fingers slipped and she tumbled down, falling on the wet floor.

She used the stick-thingy to climbed back up to her feet as she glared at the offending grate that teased her with freedom. She hefted her weapon back up in front of her as she continued creeping throughout the cave, wondering where The Outsider had disappeared.

She rounded a corner and felt a breeze on her neck, startling her and causing her to turn. There was air coming through the wall, between the rocks. Her fingers slid along the wet surface, digging into the cracks and crevices and removing the green stuff that seemed to be holding the wall together, loosening the rocks. She pried at one of the rocks and it tumbled out, exposing a hole. She pried at another rock, opening a window to the outside. Freedom!

She heaved herself up and through the hole, finding herself in a narrow tunnel leading to…more tunnel, just wide enough for her to lie in. She started inching forward on her elbows. At least her knee was getting a break.

She crawled along with no end in sight, the squeaks and chatter of creatures she knew nothing about echoing in her ears. “I am not afraid,” she reminded herself. Her leg got caught on something. She shook it off and continued wriggling along, catching a glimpse of daylight at last. She reached the end of the tunnel and hauled herself through it, tumbling out and landing on her back on the grassy forest floor.

She quickly scrambled back, feeling exposed in the early morning light, terrified The Outsider might see her making her tedious escape all for naught. She was alone as far as she could tell. She clambered to her feet and hobbled off into the forest, having no idea where she was going. She was utterly and completely lost.

There was something she remembered about moss on tree trunks from one of William’s old Earth Survival apps but even if she could remember what it was, it still didn’t tell her which way was their camp. Maybe it would at least keep her from going in circles.

A scream cut through the air. She stopped to listen. It sounded like a woman.

Arms encircled her and she screamed only to have it muffled by a gloved hand over her mouth as she was carried away. She kicked and squirmed, unable to break The Outsider’s hold. She didn’t know how but she knew it was him again.

He crouched down behind a tree with her in front of him, his hand still firmly over her mouth, his arm wrapped around her waist as he enveloped her almost completely. She clung to his wrist over her mouth, trying to free herself to cry out for help as she saw Rhonda running through the forest where she had just been moments earlier.

Rhonda was suddenly jerked back and pinned to the tree behind her, a spear sticking through her chest.

Ophelia couldn’t even scream if she wanted to; she was hyperventilating with fright, her eyes darting around wildly. It was Flint all over again.

The Outsider’s hand loosened from around her mouth, as if sensing she was about to have a panic attack and allowing her to breathe a little easier. When she didn’t scream, he removed it entirely, grabbing her about the waist and yanking her up into his arms.

She held herself stiffly, petrified at what she had just witnessed, as he carried her away from Rhonda’s body. Still in shock, she stared at nothing, seeing only Rhonda flying through the air and sticking to the tree over and over again.

She shook her head, clearing her vision, her eyes turning to The Outsider who had just saved her, seeing him for the first time in the light of day. He had three-pointed stars painted in black over his eyes and a scarf decorated in bones encircling his neck. The moment he felt her eyes on him must have been some sort of signal because he immediately set her down on her feet again.

And then he walked away.

 _What the hell?_ Ophelia still had no idea where she was or which direction to go in but The Outsider didn’t seem to want to hurt her so she followed after him, hoping maybe he’d turn around and point her in the right direction.

But he didn’t.

So she kept following him, thinking maybe he was leading her back to Camp. Her pace started slowing down as her knee finally had enough of her blatant disregard for healing. Her steps faltered and she stopped, propping her arm on a tree trunk as she breathed heavily through the pain.

“Ugh!” She panted. The Outsider stopped and turned around. “My leg.” His head tilted at her, sizing her up. “I need to rest.”

He stalked over toward her and she backed away from the tree, uncertain what his intentions were. One arm went around her back and the other beneath her legs as he swept her up in his arms once again. This time, she was intensely aware of him carrying her. Her eyes returned to his face as a tiny fluttering of nervousness erupted deep within her belly. He looked to be around William’s age but he had more scars. His head was shaved clean except for a stubbly stripe down the middle. She wanted to touch it, wondering what it might feel like beneath her fingers. He kept his gaze forward as he walked, allowing her study him closely, this man who had now twice saved her.

“Thank you. You saved my life.” She waited for him give her some sign that he understood her. “That girl back there, I knew her. So, if she’s here, then so is my brother. Please! You have to help him, too. They’ll kill him.” She didn’t know why she was asking for his help except that he had already helped her before and hadn’t hurt her when he could have.

When he still didn’t respond, she tossed her head back in frustration. “You don’t understand me, do you? Great.” He finally glanced at her and that flutter was back in her belly as his eyes met hers briefly before he turned his head away again.

They reached the entrance to his cave and he set her down on her feet while he slid back the grate covering the opening. Dammit! That’s how that stupid thing opened. He lifted her up again and carried her inside, setting her down gently on the floor of the main room.

“Why are you taking care of me?” she asked as he walked away from her. “You found me at the bottom of that ravine. Fixed my knee.”

He knelt down beside her and roughly seized her wrists, winding a chain around them. “What the hell are you doing?” She had come with him willingly so why was he chaining her up? “Please don’t do this.” She begged and sobbed as he finished securing her wrists and began dragging her over toward the wall of his cave. “Ah! Stop it! No, stop it! Stop! Please! Please don’t do this.”

She started crying as he looped the chain through a metal ring embedded into the wall and secured it with a lock. Why was he doing this to her? She had trusted him! She continued weeping even as he ignored her and left her alone once again the cave.

That horrifying, overwhelming panic was rising, like it had done every day for the entire year she spent locked up in prison, like she felt when Adam had locked her up last week before Wash had distracted her. This time, however, her enemy was unknown, her fate unknown.

“I am not afraid,” she whispered to herself through sobs. “I am not afraid.” She said it over and over and over until the tears finally stopped and she was able to focus again. She had gotten out of this cave once already. She was going to get out of it a second time.


	2. Do Something Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ophelia thinks about all the lips she has kissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a tumblr prompt: "When you have the time, could you do a fic focusing on Ophelia's journey of experimenting with the juvenile boys? We know she was flirty, direct, and unashamed, and I was wondering of you could expand on that. You could even throw in attraction to the juvenile girls if you want."

Ophelia was quite proud of herself. She had managed to kiss five people in just two weeks. After spending her entire life locked away from anyone besides her mother and brother, she had a lot of new experiences to try and kissing someone other than a family member had been at the top of her list.

That first day she landed on earth, she went along with Claire on her group hike to the Mountain solely because she thought it was the best opportunity to experience her first kiss, considering the two people she had her eye on were going. Claire was beautiful and smart and bossy and Ophelia had fallen half-in love with her when she stood up to William. Then there was Tim. He was the first boy she had a crush on simply because he was the first boy who caught her attention when he did that fancy backflip off the wall. All he had to do was put a flower in her hair and she had fallen the other half-in love with him.

That trip had ended differently than anyone expected and she did not get to kiss either of them. Instead, her first kiss had to wait until the next day. She had flirted with Adam more so to piss off William than because she actually liked the boy (although, he was very cute). He, in turn, had followed her to the butterfly field and had stolen her first kiss from her. It had been so hesitant and brief, his lips reticently pressing against hers before he pulled away. She had kissed him back because she wanted to _remember_ her first kiss and that shy, little peck had not been memorable.That day spent kissing Adam had been flirtatious and fun and, most importantly, safe. He had reassured her he wouldn’t pressure her and she believed him. It gave her the confidence to kiss him with meaning and to experience an innocent passion when he taught her how to use her tongue. Of course, William had to go and ruin it all.

The first girl she ever kissed was Harriet. It was a day or so after Adam had died and, even though Ophelia hadn’t known him that well, she still mourned his loss. Harriet had been so warm and comforting and her lips had been even better. Gentle, loving, tender, soft. Harriet taught her how to make love with her kisses. But Harriet had been in love with someone else (she just recently admitted to Ophelia that it was Flint) so Ophelia had let her go.

After Harriet was Tim (the mistake she would rather forget). She still found it difficult being around a lot of people so she spent most of her time venturing outside their camp, exploring her new planet and getting away from the claustrophobic feeling of too many bodies. Tim also enjoyed wandering and their paths had crossed about a week after Adam’s death (and before she realized Tim was also pursuing Claire). He had brought up Adam’s death ~~almost~~ manipulatively and had offered his shoulder in comfort. By that point, she had known what he was about but she allowed him to kiss her anyway just to see what it was like. It was a lot of slobber and gaping mouth and limp tongue and he kept trying to get her to put her hand on his penis. She had liked Adam’s kisses much better. She learned from Tim how _not_ to kiss.

Flint’s lips were the next she kissed. She had given him a peck of encouragement and to lift his spirits, the kind of kiss William placed on her forehead but she knew Flint would appreciate it better if she kissed him on his lips instead. She was now worried she had made a mistake and given him false hope. He had carelessly mentioned to her today when he was high that he loved her.

Someone draped a blanket over her shoulders, startling her. She looked back in appreciation, only to see it was William. She still took the blanket because it was cold but she wasn’t going to talk to him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but you’ll have to find a way to live with me,” William said, “because I’m not going anywhere.”

She remained silent, furious at him as his sins continued to pile up one after another. Two days ago, it was torturing Malcolm, today it was bringing guns back to camp.

“William!” Claire called out to him. “It’s time.”

It was time for him to run after his princess and do her bidding. She heard him start to move away from her, but then he stopped.

“That Outsider escaping, was that you?” he asked.

“I had nothing to do with it.” She baldly lied. William was too lost in his own hubris to be reasoned with the truth. “Thanks for the blanket.”

William left her alone again with her thoughts. Her fingers rose to her lips, remembering her last kiss, her best kiss. Malcolm was out there somewhere and she was going to find him again.


End file.
